


Coming Apart at the Seams

by Shadow15



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Physical Abuse, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 22:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow15/pseuds/Shadow15
Summary: Peter's life was surely some sort of messed up fairy tale; kidnapped from his home and his family, and then kidnapped from his kidnapper.  No one else had the kind of luck Peter did.  But while Yondu had purpose for him and - in his own messed up way - cared about Peter, there was seemingly no reason for him to have been taken from Yondu.  At least, it had seemed that way for the years of isolation he'd been kept in until he was handed off to Ronan as some sort of peace offering - except, from the very moment they'd met, Peter could tell Ronan didn't want him and never would.  The only reason he hadn't been slain on the spot was because stupid old Kree culture or whatever Peter really didn't care about forbid the killing of one's partner.But as Peter would come to learn, some days he was sure he'd rather Ronan had just killed him where he stood because he knew things were bad when he wanted Yondu to come and take him back to the Eclector.





	Coming Apart at the Seams

The first thing Peter knew when the blindfold came off was pain.  Pain so bad, his eyeballs ached and his nerve endings felt like they were on fire.  It was probably expected, when he’d look back on it in future; after the  _ years  _ he’d spent locked away,  _ isolated  _ in that tiny room without even a second’s interaction with another person, he was surprised he wasn’t  _ blind  _ just yet. 

Peter wanted to yell.  He wanted to scream, to demand what was going on and why he’d been locked away for so long against his will.  At the very least, he’d  _ tried _ , but he couldn’t get much more than a croak out after so long of silence.  

The light he was standing in showed him nothing but a grey hue, and there was no point trying to make out shapes amongst the near-blind veil.  Even less, after all this time, he  _ still  _ wasn’t getting answers; he’d held on to the belief that sooner or later, he’d understand why he’d been taken from Yondu - it had been the only thing that had kept him sane, truely.  

But standing here, on legs with so much muscle atrophy from disuse, they barely kept him upright, Peter found what little was left of his sanity cracking at the fact that the translator chip in his neck wasn’t picking up on the language surrounding him. 

Peter chewed at his lip.  He felt someone untying his wrists from behind his back, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could separate them - but the pain it sparked in his shoulders after being unmoving for so long almost wasn’t worth the freedom. 

And then, finally, despite being almost blind and practically deaf to the conversation, he understood a single sentence, spoken so gruffly - so  _ unwillingly  _ \- Peter felt chills roll down his spine.  “I will accept him.” 

Peter focused on trying to blink his vision clear.  He didn’t take much notice of the sets of footsteps leaving him, but the tall,  _ extremely  _ tall blur in front of him told him he wasn’t quite alone just yet.  

As if to prove this, the blur moved, and a hand that felt  _ far  _ too large snatched around one of his wrists to drag him forward.  

Peter croaked again, trying to protest, but the best he could do was drag his feet along the ground and try to keep up.  

“You will be bathed and your wounds tended to,” came the unfamiliar voice once more.  Peter didn’t recognise it, but he wasn’t holding out that this was a good guy in front of him.  “Food will come after, and then you will sleep. I will deal with you in the morning.” 

Peter felt further on edge; yet  _ another  _ being who clearly didn’t want to deal with him.  His heart ached at the rejection; was it  _ really  _ only his mother who had ever wanted him…?  

No matter; Peter found anger and resentment settling in, replacing the pain.  He didn’t need  _ anyone  _ to love him; he didn’t need their  _ approval _ .  

...What Peter needed was a fucking  _ hug _ , man.  


End file.
